


Almost

by Eratoschild



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near-misses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-14 19:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19279438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eratoschild/pseuds/Eratoschild
Summary: By some miracle, the tip of the blade had struck one of the metal clasps on Ignis’s jacket as evidenced by a rather significant nick in its surface. It had still somehow twisted and landed to cut through the fabric and leave a shallow cut across Ignis’s ribs. A minor curative had quickly nullified that. But he couldn’t just be thankful for the twist, he couldn’t let go of what if…what if…





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bagpipes5k2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagpipes5k2/gifts).



> Written for bagpipes5k2, with the request of one comforting the other after a very close call in battle

Ignis stood before him, clearly in a better state than he himself was, chiding him sternly,

“Nyx Ulric, kindly calm down and stop fussing about me. I am _fine_ , as you can plainly see.Let’s go,” he urged. “There are still enemies all over the place and you can’t maintain your claim to the title of hero if you just sit there on your ass crying on my account.” 

“Ignis. I almost – “

“I was there,” Ignis reminded him, not unkindly. “There were curatives on hand, and there’s not a scratch on me. Now, we need to get back to fighting until the relief team gets here.” 

Reaching out, Nyx allowed Ignis to take his hand and pull him up. The sooner this was over, the better. He just wanted to be home, and the relief team was due in a matter of hours. They just had to hold the line.

When it was over, though, when enemies were the worry of the other team and they were safely back in the Crown City, it hit him. _Hard_.

He had almost lost Ignis. Almost- and by his own hand. Though, later he would eventually admit that Ignis had played a part his own near-demise. It had been Ignis’s first mission outside the wall, part of his Crownsguard training. They were under active fire. Nyx had never been aware of just how reckless Ignis could be when he was absorbed in the rush of battle. Looking back, he wondered if Ignis himself was not yet fully cognizant of the fact, having never before experienced such a situation. And it was beautiful to watch, had he the time to truly appreciate the sight of his younger lover, so graceful and deadly in the heat of live combat.

Now, back in Ignis’s apartment, barely an hour returned, and just showered, Nyx sat on the sofa while Ignis made a pot of coffee. He couldn’t help replaying everything over in his head until it was a blur, until the images were almost meaningless. _Almost_. But he could see it as if it were happening now, again in front of him.

Nyx had been preparing to warp, one of his kukris in hand, cocked and poised to throw. He’d just released it when Ignis had flipped right into its path.

By some miracle, the tip of the blade had struck one of the metal clasps on Ignis’s jacket as evidenced by a rather significant nick in its surface. It had still somehow twisted and landed to cut through the fabric and leave a shallow cut across Ignis’s ribs. A minor curative had quickly nullified that. But he couldn’t just be thankful for the twist, he couldn’t let go of what if… _what if_ …

He looked up just as Ignis was coming into the room, two hot cups of coffee in his hands, steam rising around him. All words froze on his tongue and he swore he was seeing a ghost. Inside, he begged the Six that the protruding kukri in Ignis’s chest was a hallucination, an illusion, _anything_ but real. Shaking his head, it was gone, but in his distant, detached awareness, his mind was suddenly blank, he was a foreign presence in his own body.

Ignis must have seen it on his face, in the way his jaw worked open-closed-open-closed with no sound. He crossed the room in two steps, the coffee sloshing on the table as he almost dropped the cups. It could be wiped up later. 

And just as suddenly, a warm, solid presence enveloped him, held him tightly. “Come back to me,” Ignis whispered, sounding as though through a long tunnel, and then he was shaking, the tears falling. Ignis held him more securely. “I’m here.   
  
How could he be sure this wasn’t ghost? Lips on the back of his neck and fingers sliding under his shirt, nails digging into his skin- not painful but enough to feel- certainly challenged the notion.

“War is dangerous,” Ignis murmured softly against his skin. “We won the battle.” 

Nyx focused on the nails, surely making little half-moons in his flesh, the lips, the soft vibration of the sound of Ignis’s voice. He took hold of them, clung to them, let them reel him back. 

When everything was solid again, real, he turned and stared long and hard at Ignis, fraught with concern. Settling back against the arm of the sofa, he pulled Ignis with him, praying to the Six that that was the last battle either would ever see, somehow knowing his prayer would go unanswered.


End file.
